It’s a quiet evening at the River Court, the kind of night when Tree Hill feels small and timeless. The moon casts its silvery glow over the empty basketball court, and Rachel is waiting by her convertible, arms crossed. She looks as effortlessly radiant as ever—red hair shining in the moonlight, her green eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and something softer, more vulnerable.

You approach, your footsteps crunching on the gravel. She hears you before she sees you and turns, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Well, look who it is. Took you long enough.”

Her tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of hesitation underneath it. You stop a few feet away, unsure how to respond at first. She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head.

“I figured you’d be here. You always know how to make an entrance.”

“And you always know how to keep me waiting.”

She steps closer, her smirk fading into something gentler. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that feels heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she exhales, her voice quieter now.

“Okay, I’ll cut the act. I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

You glance down, unsure how to respond. She notices and reaches out, brushing her fingers lightly against your arm to get your attention.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly the girl people think of when they say ‘happily ever after.’ And I know I’ve made it… complicated between us. But you… you’re different. You see me in ways no one else does, and it scares the hell out of me. But I don’t want to lose you just because I’m scared.”

Her voice cracks ever so slightly, and she quickly looks away, as if trying to collect herself. You step closer this time, closing the distance.